


Be Careful What You Wish For

by sanstastic



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, And angst, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of self-harm, No Smut, Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, So smol, Suicide Attempt, The fluffiest fluff, but don't skip them because they're important, casually shoots all you sinners down, don't forget the angst, it'll hit you hard, like 5'0", pacifist, reader also loves cats, reader is a bit of an artist, reader is female, reader is smol, reader isn't gonna fuck the skeleton, reader makes sans love cats, trust me - Freeform, will add tags over time, you won't meet sans in the first two chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanstastic/pseuds/sanstastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Depression isn't something you've ever liked living with. It lurks around every corner of your mind, constantly threatening to make your life even more of a living hell than it already is. Sure, there are ways to combat such feelings through things like therapy and other medical attention, but the thing is you were never in any place to tell anyone about how you really feel. You're a lost soul trapped in a dark state of mind, and just as you finally give up on trying to continue living, things very quickly get... strange; especially when you meet a dorky, pun-spitting skeleton and his obnoxious, hyperactive brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, so uh, yeah. This is my first Undertale fanfiction. [It was kind of meant to be personal, but I figured I should just post it anyways.] I'm not too sure how it'll go, but I hope I don't destroy any characters with my horrid writing. Forgive me if I do!  
> This story will be long, and when I say long, I mean /really/ long. I'm shooting for between one and three updates every week, maybe more than that whenever I have the time.  
> That aside though, I really hope you like what I write! Feel free to leave me any feedback in the comments or shoot me a message at my tumblr: aph-bruhssia.tumblr.com/  
> Thanks for reading!

_I can’t take this anymore, I wish I was dead._

That's the last thing you remember putting any effort towards thinking about before you had made your way to where you are now. Where are you exactly, though? Oh yeah, right. It's the top of a mountain; one known as Mt. Ebott.

You had heard all of the legends before, like the typical, 'Those who climb the mountain never return,’ but that's exactly why you came here in the first place. You want an end. You don’t ever want to return. This is it; you are finally going to reach the salvation that you’ve been longing for as long as you can remember, and you're more than ready for that.

Directly in front of you is a huge, gaping hole in the rocky mountain. Your legs shake from just looking at it, but that doesn’t stop you from walking a bit closer to the edge of what was inevitably going to be what killed you. Gulping, you gaze over the edge, staring into the abyss of darkness that seems to lie at the bottom. Yeah, there was no way you could ever survive a fall like this, and that was good. You can easily see why nobody would return after falling into this abyss.

Backing away just slightly from the hole in the mountain, you take a deep breath. This is it. You just need to relax; it would all be over soon. You would finally be free from the cruel hands of depression, anxiety, and every other problem you were cursed with. You would be at peace.

With shaky hands, you pull the long strap of your shoulder bag from over your head so that you can put your bag to the side. You carried that bag everywhere with you, ever since the day you got it from your best friend last Christmas. It's black with thin, white vertical stripes and is adorned with the words ‘Fall Out Boy’ printed in gold on the front and back. The bag holds your mini Polaroid camera, your sketchbook, your pens and pencils, your wallet, your phone, your phone charger, and your glasses. If you're about to die, you wouldn’t need these things anymore, so without much of a care, you simply toss the bag to the side.

Your bag flies out to the side, just close enough to the edge of the hole in the ground for it to topple down into its depths. It vanishes before your eyes. Oh well. At least now nobody would see any clues that gave away to the fact that you had taken your own life here; if they were even smart enough to look around this place. Who would literally climb a mountain just to look for you, though? Oh, right. Nobody.

Letting tears finally begin to well up in your eyes, you bring yourself once again closer to the very edge of the hole in Mt. Ebott’s surface. Allowing said tears to leak down your face, you take one last deep breath and finally, you lean forward, letting yourself fall into the darkness that now surrounds your every being. If it wasn’t for how quickly it seemed to happen, you’re certain you would have screamed.

The force of colliding with the ground doesn’t allow that though. It's so rough and so sudden that within the very second you land, your consciousness leaves you.

You did it; or so you thought.

—————

What feels like nearly hours later, you open an (e/c) eye. Your head is pounding horribly, and your ears are ringing. Not only that, but pain is shooting all the way through your left arm; the one your body had awkwardly landed on. Is this how it feels to die? You're almost certain that you're far from alive.

Time ticks by though, more slowly than ever. Minutes pass and you finally sit your body up, wincing at the pain that erupts in nearly every part of your being. When you are finally sitting up and you gain the strength to look around at your surroundings, you find something extremely odd about where you are.

Of all places you could land, you had landed directly in the center of a patch of yellow flowers. The patch was relatively small, seemingly only big enough to fully accommodate a young child, but for being a pretty small teenager yourself (and the way you had been curled up), your legs are barely extended off of the edge of the patch. Surely, this had to be a coincidence, right?

Taking several more minutes to try and let your physical pain ease at least somewhat more, you look up to see what is above you. Sure enough, very far above your head is a circle of bright light from outside; it is coming from the hole that you’d just fallen—no, jumped—into. Apparently, you’d been wrong about this tunnel being a mere bottomless pit. Great, just what you needed was to fail a suicide attempt, then be stuck in the bottom of pit with nowhere to go.

Finally gaining the energy to stand up, you clutch your still hurting left arm with your right hand and then stand to your shaky, unstable feet. Your glaze flicks around the dark ‘room’ you're in and then instantly falls upon something very familiar; your shoulder bag. You approach the bag with curiosity, then with a small moment of hesitation, you lean down and pick it up. Sighing, you gently sling your belonging over your right shoulder and frown; even though you're alive and really don't want to be, at least you still have this thing to accompany you. You decide to worry about if any of its contents are broken later.

That's when you see it. There is a dark purple colored door, barely illuminated just several meters away from you. It's ominous, but at the same time you feel drawn to it. Besides, if that means getting out of here without anyone knowing of your whereabouts or intentions, then so be it. With this in mind, you gather up any will you can to press on, then let your thin, feeble legs carry you towards the door. There, you push through them. They're quite heavy.

You are lead to yet another room, one which is still dark; perhaps even darker than the one you just left. The only thing different about this one is that one very small circle of light is illuminating a patch of grass in the center of the nothingness, and there is a single fairly large yellow flower planted there. With some hesitation as you continue to grip your throbbing injured arm, you walk towards the flower and stop in front of it. Furrowing your brows some, you crouch down in front of said flower, letting go of your arm and reaching out to touch one of the plant’s bright yellow petals. You would have done it too if a grinning, happy face hadn't appeared on the ‘face’ of the flower and proceeded to scare you into yelping and falling on your rear. Great.

“Howdy!” the flower states in a cheery, high pitched voice. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower!”

Your eyes go wide, your expression twisting into one that reflects nothing but pure shock and quite obviously, fear. There is a flower literally talking to you. It's saying things loud and clear, things that you can completely understand. It's friendly, too. Almost _too_ friendly. You aren't so sure you'll ever be able to understand what's happening.

The flower suddenly lets out a laugh that breaks the silence between the both of you. It's full of joy and yet here you are, still speechless and unable to figure out what's going on. Alright, you have to be dead if this is happening. This is all fake. You just need to relax and maybe it'll go away.

You test that theory and nothing happens. Wonderful.

“Oh, well now, you’re just like the others, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll help you out, friend!” The flower, who is apparently named Flowey, winks and sticks his tongue out at you in a relatively playful manner. You want to ask him about how he, a literal flower, is going to help you, but your mouth is having trouble forming the words to do so. While you stand up and resume clutching your left arm again though, it finally comes to you.

“W-Wait… How are you sup-posed to h-help me…?” The question that leaves your lips is a quiet one, but in the pure silence of this dark and musty room you’re sure that Flowey can easily hear it.

“I know more about this place than you do, wouldn’t you think? Here, let me explain!” Flower says with a visibly happy grin on his face, leaving you a little worried. Afraid though, you know you have no choice but to listen to what he has to say, so you give him the benefit of the doubt and nod as a sign that you're listening.

Another wink comes and that's when you feel your breath catch in your throat. Your chest begins aching, then before you can scream or say anything, it feels as if your entire soul is being ripped right out of your body. Seconds later, the pain eases away completely and you can see a lilac colored heart floating in front of your body, just about a foot away from your chest. Wait a minute, is that your soul..?

Flowey interrupts your thoughts.

“Down here in the Underground, you’ll want to befriend as many monsters as you can. Doing so will increase your LV,” the flower states, then pauses. “What’s LV stand for? Well, LV stands for LOVE.”

Wait, what does he mean? Monsters? Monsters aren't real, are they?

“You want some LOVE, don’t you? Well, I’ll gladly share some with you!” Flowey winks yet again and soon, several small white oval-like shapes appear above his ‘head.’ "Here, LOVE is shared through little white… friendliness pellets. Catch as many of them as you can!”

As he says his last sentence, the little white pellets come flying towards you. You narrow your eyes a bit, suspicious of the objects. Thankfully, they’re moving fairly slowly, so you have time to think before you move out of the way of them; just before they can come in contact with your body. The glowing, lilac heart in front of your chest seems to move where you do.

Flowey’s happy expression seems to fade just a bit. You tilt your head. You’re really beginning to feel like you shouldn’t trust him now.

“You missed them! Here, let’s try again; try and catch them all!” The pellets reappear, then once again, they’re heading straight in your direction. You avoid them once more.

Flowey’s expression immediately twists into one of pure detectable annoyance. He’s obviously up to something now, and you don’t like what your mind is making you think it is.

“For the last time! RUN. INTO. THE BULLE—friendliness pellets!” The pellets appear again, and finally, they’re sent flying towards you and your soul yet again. You avoid them, like you've been doing before. There's no way you're going to fall for this now, not at all. You may have convinced yourself before that you're an idiot, but you aren't _that,_ much of an idiot.

What you see next immediately sickens you. Flowey’s look of annoyance begins to shift and suddenly, he’s staring at you with big, black eyes complete with pinprick-like white pupils and a mouth full of pointed teeth. You feel like running, but you know that if you do, you aren’t going to do yourself any good. Instead, you stand and stare with fearful eyes and your mouth gaping.

“Y o u k n o w w h a t ‘ s g o i n g o n h e r e , d o n ‘ t y o u . . ?” Flowey’s voice has shifted to one of a much darker, eerie tone now. You would hate to admit that you're currently afraid of a flower, but you're almost certain that anyone you know would be afraid of something like this. Who could blame you?

“I d i o t . Y o u ‘ l l n e v e r s u r v i v e d o w n h e r e w i t h a n a t t i t u d e l i k e t h a t . . .” Suddenly, what looks like hundreds of the same white pellets—no, bullets—from before are surrounding you. You gulp and begin to tremble in fear. How do you even avoid them if they’re surrounding you like this? You're going to die. You had jumped down here hoping to die on your own terms though, not to be murdered by some sick, sadistic monster.

“D I E .” The bullets begin to close in and you can feel tears pricking at your eyes once more. They threaten to spill down your face, just like they'd done so before you'd gotten yourself down into this unknown place. This is by far the last thing you'd ever imagine to be happening to you right now. You're supposed to be dead, where did you go wrong..?

Flowey’s face shifts into an even more evil expression than before, then he begins to laugh manically while the bullets spin towards your body and your soul. Reaching your frail hands weakly up to your eyes, you cover your face and fight the urges to begin sobbing until suddenly, you hear the laughing die away along with the whooshing sounds of the white bullets. Confused, you peer through your fingers just in time to see a pretty big ball of flames fly over and knock Flowey completely out of the ground and out of sight. You’re immediately beyond baffled.

As you lower your hands and once again move to clutch onto your left arm, a large figure walks into view and turns to face you. Your mouth begins to gape again as you begin to realize that the creature in front of you looks just like a goat; an anthropomorphic goat, to be exact. She doesn’t seem to be anything like Flowey was; her demeanor is calm and she wears a completely gentle, caring and worried expression on her face. It seems so genuine that you can’t help but feel a bit more at ease.

“What a despicable creature, torturing a poor innocent child..,” the tall goat murmurs with a gentle tone in her voice. Child? You're seventeen, almost eighteen, and most certainly not a child anymore, but you didn’t feel the need to try and correct her for now.

Your lilac soul sudden begins to move towards your chest and you feel a warmth spread throughout the entirety of your sore body as it sinks back into your being, vanishing and now no longer in sight. You breathe a sigh of relief; you feel a lot better with your soul kept safe inside your body, where it should always be.

“My, are you alright? I’m so sorry about that creature! I would have come sooner, but it’s been so long since a child has fallen down here that I had started to think that it wasn’t going to happen again…” The goat monster’s voice seems to trail off a bit, though in her next sentence her volume has fully returned. “My name is Toriel. I’m the caretaker of the Ruins here in the Underground.”

You let her name, Toriel, sink into your clouded mind. You don't want to forget it; you'd feel more than horrible if you did.

“…It’s n-nice to meet you, T-Toriel,” you say quietly, stumbling over your quiet words and averting your gaze away from her. Then remembering you should probably introduce yourself to her as well, you go ahead and add, “I-I’m ________..”

“________?” Toriel questions you, stepping closer towards you with the same gentle smile as before. “That’s a very nice name, and it’s nice to meet you too, _________.”

You manage to turn your head and look back up to Toriel, biting on your lower lip nervously. You carefully rub your left arm, hoping to ease some of the pain that still lingered within it. The goat monster seems to notice this and she quickly leans down, taking your arm away from you with a light touch. Your eyes widen and you begin to grow extremely nervous as she begins to lift the loose sleeve of your oversized (f/c) jacket up, but you feel frozen. You had scars that you really didn’t want her, much less anyone to see, but you figured you couldn’t just avoid the inevitable. Turning your face away from Toriel once again, you feel tears begin to well up in your (e/c) eyes once more. You're always crying about something, aren’t you?

Toriel examines the surface of your arm, taking note of every little mark that litters it. She doesn’t say anything, rather instead lets out a small sigh before lowering your sleeve once again. She uses her free hand to turn your head and looks directly at your face. Your lip trembles just a bit at tears slide down your cheeks and she moves her white, fur covered hand to wipe your tears away.

“It’s alright, my child,” she says with easily noticeable care, but theres a tinge of some other emotion in there too. Heartbreak, maybe? “Let’s get you home and take care of these, alright?”

Toriel gives you a soft pat on your head then stands back up to her feet, being so tall that she towers over your short stature. She releases your sore left arm, instead reaching to take your right hand. You accept the offer, then with a sniffle you grip her hand and allow her to lead you out of the dark room and into one that is full of dim light. It’s been a while since you’ve seen light and now you can see that everything is purple.

What does she mean by ‘home’ though? You immediately know she doesn’t mean your home; you know there's no way you’d be getting out of the Underground any time soon and so you lead yourself to assume that she meant her own house. You aren’t going to protest for now. This is the nicest someone has been to you in a very long time and you're going to hopefully take advantage of that.

You would for now, at least.


	2. Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You think you're going to be in the Ruins for a while until the memories hit you. Then, you realize that you have to leave.
> 
> You don't take this well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight, I got this long chapter done! It may seem to drag on, but it's worth the read, I guess.  
> As always, feedback may be left in the comments or sent to me at my tumblr: aph-bruhssia.tumblr.com/

If there is one thing you're absolutely sure of, it's that this place is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

The Ruins are plain and unexciting, only offering a few puzzles here and there that grant both you and Toriel the ability to continue on along your path. The entire walk through, you hold the tall goat monster’s hand, listening to her in silence as she carefully explains each and every puzzle to you one by one. She must really feel like you're going to be here for a long time; it’s as if she wants you to know every little thing about every nook and cranny in this desolate area, but it just seems like it's nothing but endless winding hallways.

You're starting to see more things though; more light (though still not very much), more monsters (Froggits, Whimsuns, etc.), and more dangers. You know you’d be stuck here forever, probably dead if Toriel hadn’t shown up when she did. You would be sure to thank her later, you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget.

“Normally I would ask you to get through here on your own, but you don’t seem to be in any state well enough to be left alone right now so I’ll just guide you the whole way myself. We can do this a bit more when you’re feeling better, my child.” Her hand doesn’t let go of yours while the two of you continue to walk, the sound of the thick soles of your boots thudding against the stone ground sending echoes down the plain hallway.

With a small nod of your head, you signal to the other that you’re alright with her plan. You don’t feel like protesting to it, nor do you feel like you have any reason to. The last thing you want to do is cause trouble, therefore you feel like going with whatever feels right for now.

More time passes, more puzzles are solved and before you know it, both you and Toriel are approaching a tree. Toriel turns to avoid the tree and walks past it, in which you do so as well while you hold onto her hand. Just ahead is a building, which while fairly small looking, also looks so cozy and inviting… this immediately leads you on to believe that this is where the goat monster you’ve just met lives.

“This is my home, _________,” Toriel speaks softly as she gently pulls you on up to the front door of the purple colored home. Her hand reaches for the door knob, which then rotates and in turn allows said door to open. She lets go of your hand just long enough to allow you inside the building, then after you enter, she follows and shuts the door behind herself. She then returns to your side, offering to take your still lightly trembling hand once again.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I can still offer you a place to stay. Would you like to see?” she says with a sympathetic smile, in which you nod once more and take her hand again. At this point, you aren’t so sure you even want to leave; Toriel was being so kind to you that you almost felt like you had to stay here with her.

Toriel turns to once again lead you to someplace, in which she turns down the right hallway and walks you to the door of a room. She proceeds to open it and lead you inside, then letting go of your hand so that you can be free to do what you’d like to. The room you're in seems pretty normal to you, complete with a bed, a closet, a dresser, a nightstand, and any other necessities for a small but welcoming room. You can’t help but finally smile a bit as you look around at the place, as this is incredibly nice of Toriel to offer to you. You almost feel guilty accepting it.

“..Thank you, Toriel,” you say more confidently than before, your previously wavering voice now finally finding some stability now that you haven’t talked much in a while. You feel like you can actually use you voice without feeling like you're going to cry at any given moment now. Perhaps Toriel’s presence is more comforting than you had initially thought it to be. “It means a lot to me."

Toriel pats your head in a friendly manner, responding with, “It’s my pleasure.” Her words sound so genuine to you that you find yourself completely grateful of everything she’s done for you so far, even if it hasn’t been very much at all.

She motions for you to take a seat on ‘your’ bed, in which you hesitate before walking over and doing so. Once you sit, you can feel your entire body relax its tense nerves. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to sit down comfortably, so you're sure that you could get used to this.

“Wait right here, I’ll return momentarily,” Toriel says with a bit of a sad smile, then turns and leaves you alone in what you presumed you could now call your room for now. You let a soft sigh leave your pale lips, then turn your gaze down to your hands that you have now rested in your lap. You move your sleeves just a bit, allowing yourself to fiddle idly with your fingers while you wait for the monster’s return.

Wow, it honestly feels wrong calling her a monster just because she looks and acts so truly kind. You don’t like the idea of the fact that she is one. It's so unfitting..

Interrupting your thoughts, you hear Toriel return to the room. She enters with a case of what looks to be first aid equipment held in her white furred hands, and you feel your nerves tense up once more. Right, she had told you that she was going to take care of your injuries once you both arrived.

You try to hide you internally building fear as she takes a few quick steps towards where you sit on your bed, then sets the case down on the comforter right next to you and kneels down in front of you. With a caring smile, she holds out a hand for you to give her one of your arms, and while you hesitate, you finally hold out your left arm. You try not to move too much; that arm still hurts pretty badly from being fallen on before, so you don’t want to trigger that horrible pain to come back any more than it still lingered.

You jump slightly when Toriel takes your arm, then slides the sleeve of your jacket back up. Your scars are once again visible, now paired with a slowly forming purple bruise. It looks really nasty and it still doesn’t seem like it's done forming, so you expect for it to look much worse very soon.

At least your scars weren’t fresh. They weren’t completely healed as they were still very noticeable against the skin of your arm, but they were still there, so you figured the medical attention would still help you out. You hate these marks; they're a constant reminder of the emotional and mental wreck you are underneath the mask of a fake smile; one you’ve worn in front of people for ages. Seeing the red lines makes you feel more like hell each and every time.

Soon though, your aching left arm had been tended to and is soon finally wrapped up in a thin layer of gauze. The same treatment is given to your right arm just a few moments later, and then Toriel allows you to lower both of your oversized sleeves and take your arms back to yourself. You feel an odd sense of comfort from this genuine care, and your mind has the worst trouble with processing the whole thing.

Toriel smiles at you, saying, “There. If…” There’s a pause between her words, and you patiently wait. “…If there’s anything you ever need to talk about, I’m here for you, okay?” Toriel takes your hands in her’s once more and strokes the backs of them with her thumbs, hoping to ease your stress as much as possible.

“Alright, Toriel,” you say quietly, nodding your head as well. You look into the goat’s eyes, reading them carefully. They’re full of a mixture of emotions; concern, sympathy, and a few things you can’t quite put your finger on at the moment. She nods as well and releases your hands after giving them a quick, reassuring squeeze.

Toriel seems to think of something. She begins to speak to you again, still knelt down in front of you.

“_________, I can’t imagine how tired you must be right now... Do yourself a favor and get some rest for now, alright?” Her words express clear, unmistakable concern for you. The thing is though, she’s actually right; you’re completely exhausted. Sleeping right now sounds most pleasant compared to everything else you could be doing, so you decide that yes, you will try and get some rest for the time being.

“Yeah, okay,” you respond simply, figuring you might as well do so while you still can. You feel like you might have a lot of talking to do later on.

Toriel smiles, glad that you agree to what she suggests. She stands back up to her feet, now seemingly towering over you since you are still sitting down. She begins to walk to the door of the room, leaving you in the comfortable silence of your surroundings. Yawning, you carefully take your bag off of your shoulder and drop it to the floor directly to the side of your bed, not caring about getting it dusty or anything right now.

As you’re beginning to lay down, Toriel stops at the door and turns to look back at you. She opens her mouth to speak to you once again.

“Excuse me, I need to ask, do you have any food allergies?”

You blink, taking a few seconds to think the question over to yourself.

“No,” you say, shaking your head softly. “I don’t.”

“Good. Now, do you like cinnamon and butterscotch?”

You wonder mindlessly about what she’s asking you this for, but still respond. This time you just nod, avoiding using your voice.

“Lovely. Sleep well, my child.” At that, Toriel flips off the lights, leaves the room, then closes the door behind her.

You release a long sigh, curling up on the right side of your body to avoid laying on your injured arm. After staring into the dark emptiness for a few lonely moments of time, you close your eyes and without any effort at all, soon drift off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

—————

Some time later, you finally wake from your sleep. Your entire body feels stiff, but that isn’t a result of where you slept. You know you feel that way because of your painful collision with the ground just earlier on.

Mustering up all of the energy you can to sit yourself up without bringing pain back into your left arm, you drag yourself to the corner of the bed. There, you sit in silence as you let your aching bones ease just a bit more. Finally though, you stand up to your feet. The feeling of your weight sinking back on your legs makes your ankles feel weak.

You move over and carefully lean down, picking up your bag and slowly pulling it onto your right shoulder so that you can carry it properly. You don’t really like leaving it anywhere, even if you're just moving to a different part of the house.

You finally walk yourself to the door of your room, where you flip the light switch back on. Warm light floods the room once again and you have to squint your eyes to adjust to it, but once you do so, you relax yet again. Then, you open your door and let yourself step out into the hallway of Toriel’s cozy house.

You're immediately met with the sweet smell of something baking. You can quickly detect the cinnamon, but it's combined with something else that results in the sugary scent that it's accompanied with. Curious, you begin to walk down the hallway and back to the entrance. You pass the front door, heading on into the room that's opposite of the hallway you’ve just left and as expected, you see Toriel.

She’s sitting comfortably in a recliner, with glasses you don’t recognize pushed up onto her snout. Judging by the open book in her hands and how she looks so relaxed, you conclude that she is reading. This doesn’t seem to last very long though as she picks her gaze up and notices you standing in the doorway of her living room. Her smile grows, and because of this, you feel a tiny smile form on your own face. It's so odd to actually smile without trying; you’ve really missed the feeling and you're glad that you're getting to experience it once again.

“Oh, hello, ________! How did you sleep?” Tories greets you with enthusiasm, apparently very happy to see you once again. This leads your tiny smile to grow just a slight bit more as you take a moment to come up with an answer for her.

“Pretty well, actually,” you reply with the same, now stable voice that you had used to talk to her with before your sleep. Toriel seems to be delighted by your answer as her smile seems to reflect more cheer than it had before. While you don’t make it too apparent, this warms your heart quite a bit.

Toriel gently shuts the book she’s holding and places it on the small table next to her, then proceeds to stand up. She motions for you to come over with a quick wave of her hand, in which you don’t hesitate to approach her. While you do so, she begins speaking once more.

“While you were sleeping, I thought I should give you a little ‘welcome’ gift,” Toriel explains to you as she turns and proceeds to lead you on into her kitchen. You listen with interest, figuring she must have baked something for you since it smelled so sweet in the place. “I really hope you like it. It’s cinnamon-butterscotch.”

At this, she approaches her counter and picks up what is quite obviously a pie. It smells good and it looks absolutely delicious, and you can’t help but find that you really want to try it. You hadn’t eaten anything in quite a while, and this pie was beginning to make you realize just how hungry you really were.

Ahah, so that’s why she’d asked you about if you had any food allergies and if you liked cinnamon and butterscotch. It all made sense to you now.

You smile, hoping to express your gratitude for the pie that Toriel took the time to bake for you. It was a really kind gesture, and you were beyond thankful for it.

“Ah, it looks really good! Thank you so much,” you say with evident enthusiasm in your voice, almost eager to try the pie that had been baked. Toriel sends a happy grin in your direction, reaching for a knife and a plate.

“It’s no problem, my child. I’m going to assume you want a slice now, correct?” She asks as she holds the knife in her hand and waits for an answer. You respond with a quick nod, and a ‘please?' which prompts her to go on ahead and cut you a slice of the cinnamon-butterscotch pie.

As soon as she finishes doing so, she transports the pie slice to the plate and sets her knife down on the pie tin, then picks up said plate and hands it to you. She then retrieves a fork and gives it to you as well, in which you take it and nod your thanks to her.

“Come, you can eat in here,” Toriel says, then walks on out of the kitchen at a constant, non-hurried pace. You follow behind her, holding your plate with both of your hands. Your arm still hurts like crazy, but you know you’re going to have to use it in order for it to heal more quickly.

The goat takes a seat at her dining room table. You approach the table and set your plate down along with your fork, then you pull your bag from your shoulder and proceed to hang it up on the back of your chair. You then pull the chair out just a bit, sit down in it, and pick up your fork. You begin eating the slice of pie on the plate in front of you, thoroughly enjoying each bite you take of it. It tastes even better than you thought it would in the beginning.

Toriel seems to have something on her mind, but you don’t notice right away as you’re more focused on eating the delicious piece of pie you were given. After several moments though, you finally look up and swallow the final bite of pie you had just put into your mouth. You can tell something is off by the way her gaze is averted to the side, away from you.

You’re about to open your mouth and ask her what’s wrong when she suddenly begins speaking instead.

“…I’m sorry I keep calling you ‘my child,’ _________..,” Toriel says with a bit of distance to her voice, leaving you to wonder what she’s going to say next. “I realize you aren’t exactly a child, but I’m more accustomed to taking care of children so it’s kind of what I’m used to..”

“Oh, no Toriel! It’s okay, I don’t mind at all!” You immediately shake your head, hoping to make Toriel feel a bit better about addressing you by that. You didn’t ever have a problem with it, and you really wanted for her to know that. You continue on to let yourself smile gentle at her, then adding to your statement, “Trust me on that one, please.”

Toriel hesitates before picking her gaze back up and looking at you. It takes her a moment, but a few seconds later she finds herself smiling. It seems like your minimal words had made her feel a bit better after all. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief at this realization.

“If you say so then, __________,” she says to you without hesitation, though the response is not hurried either. You can finally tell that she is relaxing once more. Then a few moments later, she stands and begins to walk to her recliner once again. “If you need me, I’ll be right over here."

After nodding to her, you finish your slice of cinnamon-butterscotch pie and then slide your plate over just a bit, setting your fork back down on it and then carefully grabbing your bag from the back of your chair. You figure that now may be a good time to check and see if anything you’d carried along broke when it fell into the hole in Mt. Ebott. You set the bag on the table in front of you, unzip its main compartment, and begin to take out your belongings one by one.

Your phone along with its charger both seem to be perfectly fine, so you lay them out on the table. Next, you pull out your mini Polaroid camera and scan your eyes over it. Miraculously, it doesn’t seem to be broken either, in which you silently thank God. That camera had been really expensive and you knew you’d hate for it to have broken.

A few more quick minutes pass and you’re able to confirm that nothing you have with you is broken. You take several minutes to neatly return each of your belongings to your bag, then zip it closed and gently put it back onto your shoulder by its long strap. Not wanting to trouble Toriel with having to get up from her comfortable seat in her chair, you pick your dirty plate and eating utensil up and carry it back into the kitchen, where you set it down in the sink to be cleaned later. Finally, you return to Toriel’s living room.

Upon entering the room you hear Toriel’s voice say, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that! I would have gotten it for you!” You shake your head in response.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t mind,” you assure her while you grab the chair you were sitting in at the dining room table and pull it so you can sit near Toriel, who is looking up at you from her recliner. She once again has a book opened up in her hands. Out of curiousity, you read the cover of the book to yourself and find that it says ‘Snail Facts.’ It’s a little strange in your opinion, but you don’t say it outloud. Instead, you lean back in your chair and relax, taking a deep breath while resting your arms in your lap. Moving them a lot, especially your left one, hurts too bad right now and while the pain has died down considerably, you don’t want to have to deal with it any longer than you’d be forced to.

“So, _________,” Toriel breathes out with a tone of curiosity in her voice. “Just since I’m wondering, how did you fall down here earlier?”

You feel your heart tense up in your chest, and you automatically feel sick thinking about what your motives to climb Mt. Ebott were. You really don't want to talk about it at all, so you quickly try and come up with an excuse to answer your current caretaker with.

“…I wasn’t feeling great and I wanted to get away from people for a little while, so I climbed the mountain that my family lives near,” you begin, swallowing a gulp as you think of how you can continue. “…When I got to the top though, I tripped over a root and, well, I fell down here.” You stop at that, thinking it should be enough of an explanation to pass.

Toriel takes a moment to think before she nods very slightly. It’s almost as if she’s suspicious of your answer, but due to this, you try your best to keep your outward composure as to reinforce what you’d just said. You needed to be as convincing as possible if you didn’t want to have to admit to the truth.

“Ah, I see,” she replies, her eyes scanning the pages of her book as she speaks. “As much of a shame as that is, I hope you know that you’ll be… safe, here.” Theres a bit of a pause between her words and you feel as if she knew more than she was actually saying to you. You didn’t question it though. Perhaps it would be best that you didn’t.

You feel guilty for not telling the entire story, but it’s too just too much for you to bear. You don’t want to have to think about it. You bite awkwardly on your lower lip, unsure of how to answer Toriel but then finally sighing softly.

“…Thank you,” you reply, hoping to let her know that you really are thankful for the reassurance. She looks up from her book for a brief second to look over at you and smile warmly, then nodding to you as if saying ‘You’re welcome.’ As you return the smile, she turns her attention back to the book of snail facts in her hands.

Everything is silent once again. Silence is never really good for you; it leaves you with nothing to preoccupy your mind with, and in turn, causes the negative thoughts to come by. Your mind begins to wander on and while thinking to yourself, you begin to remember everything you’d lose if you were to live down here in the Underground for the rest of your life.

You don’t have many friends, but those you do have mean the world to you. A tear suddenly springs to one of your eyes while you think of your best friend. You’re fairly certain your phone won’t gain any signal down here, so you can’t get in touch with them. That also complicates your ability to talk to your best internet friend; living down here and knowing you’d never get to meet them hurt like hell.

You then remember the rest of your family. While you don’t always get along well at all with each other, you still love them and they still love you. You have no clue about what to do without them.

Finally, your pets come to mind. You have four cats; and you’re both mentally and emotionally attached to all of them. You’ve always loved cats more than anything and yet here you are, under the impression that you’d never get to see your beloved felines ever again. Just fucking great.

The tears finally leak down your face and you sniffle softly, once again covering your face with your hands.. Toriel notices this and again looks away from her book and to you, worry immediately taking the expression on her face. She closes her book and sets it down in her lap, then turns to you and frowns.

“_________? What’s wrong? Are you doing alright?” You aren’t even looking at her but you can practically feel her eyes on you, and you can also clearly hear the concerned tone of her voice. Why did you have to be like this? You're such an emotional crybaby!

You take a moment to calm yourself and lower your hands down your face just slightly, refusing to meet Toriel’s gaze. You gently nod and while you’re sure it wasn’t enough to be noticeable, she seems to have seen it. You take another few moments before lowering your trembling hands back down to your lap.

“It’s j-just… My family and friends, and my _cats_ … I’m worried about n-never seeing them ag-gain..,” you stutter out, your teary eyed gaze focused on nothing other than the flooring under your feet. You pick up your right hand and quickly ball it up into a small fist, then use your sleeve to wipe your tears away from your face.

 _You need to keep your composure,_ , you silently remind yourself. _Stay calm_.

Toriel sighs. It’s become apparent (judging by the look on her face) that she has something on her mind. As you finally look at her and notice this, you’re half tempted to ask her what it was that had her preoccupied. She talks before you can say anything though, and you don’t want to interrupt her.

“It’ll be okay, I promise you..,” she says a little too quietly. You swear she wants to say more, but she refrains from doing so.

You continue to think a bit more to yourself before you finally realize that you _really_ need to leave this place. The thought of leaving Toriel after such a short time makes you feel kind of sick to your stomach, but you just can’t bear without seeing those that you care about ever again.

You hesitate before you finally gain the courage to ask her about it.

“Toriel..,” you begin, the word trailing off almost sadly as it falls from your mouth. “…How do I leave the Underground..? I want to go home..”

You can seen Toriel tense up. You see something in her eyes that you didn’t see before, and she looks hurt. You aren’t so sure why, but you can tell that she really doesn’t want to answer your question.

“…” Toriel averts her gaze away. She quickly picks up the book in her lap and opens it to a page, all while saying, “…My child, would you like to hear some snail facts? …They’re very interesting..”

Aha, so she's trying to change the subject, hmm? You aren’t going to let her do that. You need an answer and you need it now. At this realization, you shake your head as a response to her.

“No, I’m serious, Toriel… I need to go home,” you say, a slight amount of desperation hidden in each word you speak. “Can you please tell me the way out..?”

Toriel looks at you, her nervous expression faltering a bit more as you finish talking. She then looks around once more, almost as if trying to find something to change the subject with yet again. It quite honestly annoys you somewhat, but you keep that to yourself.

Then, she abruptly says something to you.

“I’ll be right back,” Toriel blurts quickly, then standing to her feet and hurrying out of the living room. Your mouth gapes slightly as you turn your body to watch her leave, and you furrow your brow just a bit out of frustration. Not thinking too much though, you decide to follow her.

You stand up, not even bothering to put your chair back at the dining room table before you head out of the room, following the sounds of rushed but still somehow gentle footsteps. Once you make it to the entrance, you stop at the door. Your gaze turns to the staircase at your left as you hear a door open, and you waste no time in heading down them. They lead into a purple hallway, much like the Ruins itself once again.

You walk a few feet down the empty hallway until you’re stopped by the fact that Toriel is standing in front of you. She must’ve heard you coming, as she starts talking to you without moving.

“Ahead is the door to exit the Ruins,” she says with a sigh. You peek around her body and glance up at her face, finding that her expression is stern. She doesn’t seem happy at all, and it quite honestly saddens you somewhat. “I’m going to destroy it now.”

Your heart feels like it leaps in your chest and your eyes widen just slightly. Wait, did that mean she was going to trap you down here? How the hell would you ever get home if she did that?!

“Go to your room, ________,” Toriel says to you, then she starts walking forward once again. You stand there in place, dumbfounded. She had just told you to go to your room, as if you really were a child. It made you feel a little bit baffled.

You start walking again though, picking up your pace as to catch up to the goat monster ahead of you. She stops walking and again, she doesn’t move her body around to talk to you.

“Don’t try and stop me,” she states dryly, though her words seem to falter just slightly. You tilt your head to the side some, as if she can see you from the way she is looking straight ahead. “Please, just go to your room..,” she says again, once more leaving you baffled. Then she resumes her walking ahead.

This time, you don’t hesitate. You follow her, stop, and you’re given the same orders as before, and then the same thing happens again. Toriel seems to grow sadder each time, until finally, you’ve followed her all the way to the door that marks the exit of the Ruins. Your breath hitches as you realize that this is the door that marks the point of dwelling deeper on into the mystery that is the Underground. It’s so much to process and it makes you nervous just thinking about it.

There is silence between you and Toriel for a few moments. You continue to stand behind her as she faces the purple doors before she finally speaks up again. You listen carefully.

“It’s so dangerous past here, ________… But if you really insist that much on leaving..,” she begins, then pausing before finally turning her body around to face you. The look on her face is one of pure determination. She looks like she’s ready for anything. “…Prove to me that you’re strong enough to survive.”

It’s the last thing you ever expect to hear, but you gulp, and you don’t respond. The feeling returns; the rising pain in your chest, then the feeling of your soul literally being torn right out of your body. Within seconds, your lilac colored soul is floating out in front of your chest; just like when you had met Flowey. Your completely nervous demeanor returns.

The air feels like static as Toriel waits for you to make a move. You have no clue what to do, but you don’t want to hurt her, so you decide on simply trying to talk to her. You tell her you don’t want to fight.

Her attack comes next. You watch as fireballs materialize, then fly in your direction. You move out of the way each time one gets close to you, your soul dodging them with you with as much precision as possible. You’re burned once on one of your arms, right through your bandages, before the attack ends, and you take a moment to recover from the pain that’s been inflicted on you. You then try talking to her again, which only results in another fire attack being thrown in your direction.

This continues on for several seemingly endless minutes. You’re burned constantly, tears leaking down your face from trying to withstand the pain. Your soul hurts worse than anything does right now. You soon feel as if you’re going to collapse at any given minute, but you still drag on. You won’t fight, you have to reason. You can’t fail, you won’t let yourself.

That was when things change. Toriel’s stern expression falters and her gaze moves to the side, refusing to look towards you. Her fire attacks start to avoid you, to the point of you not even having to move from your position in the center of the room.

Then, after several more minutes, the attacks stop completely. You keep on refusing to fight, and then Toriel starts talking to you once more. Her expression grows sadder and sadder the longer the battle continues on.

“I know we don’t have much,” Toriel says, her mouth curving down into a frown as she speaks. “..The Ruins are really small once you get used to them…”

You stand your ground. You need to leave. The tears rolling down your face make you seem absolutely pathetic, but you can’t help it. This was never how you wanted to say goodbye.

Toriel lets out a small, weak laugh, her own tears dripping down her furred face now.

“How funny is that?” She states with a distraught tone, closing her teary eyes. “…I cannot even spare the life of one single child…”

You feel horrible, but soon, finally, it’s over, and as sad as Toriel is, she gives in. She’s going to let you leave the Ruins.

The urge to keep on crying bubbles up in your being as your soul is reabsorbed into your body once again, and you feel more secure. Feeling weak from your burns though, you slowly hug yourself, your frail body not ceasing its trembling. You were a wreck, weren’t you?

“If you wish to leave the Ruins, I… I won’t stop you, __________,” Toriel says quietly, now looking at you with pure despair in her eyes. She’s acting so sad, you almost feel guilty for leaving, but you _have_ to go. You’ve already made the decision, and you’re going to go through with it no matter what. “But please… Please, be careful…”

You nod. You can agree to that much.

“Of c-course, Toriel..,” you murmur, your words stumbling over your tongue just a bit as you speak. “I can do th-that…”

Toriel hesitates, but she then walks forward. She leans down and pulls you right into her arms, giving you a long and meaningful embrace. You sniffle a bit, then proceed to wrap your arms around her as well. You hold onto each other for what feels like forever and you don’t ever want to let go.

Toriel begins to pull away from you, but an idea comes to your mind and you're quick to stop her.

“W-Wait!”

She halts, then sadly asking, “Yes, _________?”

You move so you can unzip the bag that still hangs from your shoulder. After a few seconds, you pull out your mini Polaroid camera and hold it up as a way of asking if it’d be okay to take a picture together. She seems hesitant at first, but finally nods.

Shooting Toriel a small smile of gratitude, you pull her back into the hug and put you face alongside her’s. You turn the camera in your hand on, then turn its lens around to face the both of you. Seconds later, you snap the picture, then watch as the image prints out of the top of the camera. You snag the used piece of film from it before sliding the camera into your bag and zipping in closed once again.

Toriel shifts, then finally stands. She walks away from you, back towards the path that lead to her home again. Upon entering the hallway, she stops, and glances back at you.

“…Farewell, my child..,” she says, then turns back around and disappears hurriedly down the purple hallway. You feel as if you may burst into sobs at any given moment.

Finally, you stand up. You look to the door and then cautiously approach it. Then, after a short moment of hesitation, you push the door open and walk through it. It leads into another long hallway… but there’s light at the end of it.

You begin walking. You glance down to the Polaroid image that is developing in your hand and feel tears begin to leak down your cheeks as the picture of you and Toriel becomes clear. It’s not much, but it’s a memory, and it’s one you want to cherish forever.

Clutching the small photograph to your chest, you reach the end of the hallway and exit. You enter a world full of tall, dark trees and what looks like tons of fluffy white snow.

Then, the Ruins' doors close behind you.

No turning back now.


	3. Snowdin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing you're expecting when you first leave the Ruins is to be immediately confronted by another monster; especially one like... _this_ one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooooo sorry this chapter took me so long to complete and publish. My last month and a half has been a literal rollercoaster of schoolwork and busywork. I went to Walt Disney World for six days literally the day following the night I published Chapter Two, then when I got back, everything toppled on me at once.
> 
> But I should be back now! I graduated from high school last Saturday and I now have a three month Summer vacation to myself, so I should get a lot done!
> 
> Anyways, I hope this chapter was worth the wait! Enjoy~!

It’s been several minutes since the door to the Ruins shut behind you. You’re still in silent disbelief that you left, and you’re still trying to process the fact that you’ll likely never see Toriel again. She’d shown you so much love and care that you wish you could go crawling right back to her suddenly, but it’s too late now. You know that you have to press on forward.

The joints in your knees lock up though. You find that you have no will to move. Your body won’t let one muscle move until you find yourself leaning your back up against the doors of the Ruins. Trembling, you let yourself slide slowly down the door until you’re sitting on the cold, snowy ground. Then you hug yourself, pulling your legs to your chest and burying your face miserably into your knees. You feel horrible, but you have no clue what to do about it.

The urge to sob returns to you. It takes several long moments but soon, tears start slipping down your face and quiet sobs leave your lips. Most of the wetness on your face is absorbed by the cloth of the pants that cover the entirety of your thin, frail legs.

Sniffling, you eventually manage to pick your teary-eyed gaze back up. You can’t let yourself sit here and cry constantly. There’s not enough time for it, you need to focus on getting out of this place. Moving so that you can take one more glance at the now fully developed Polaroid photo in your hand, you take a deep breath, then you unzip the outside pocket of your shoulder bag and slip the image into it; where it can join all of the other photos you’ve taken with the instant-printing camera. You then zip the compartment closed once again.

Gathering all of the strength you can, you stand up. Your feet hurt but you don’t care. It’s so cold out that the dampness of your face stings, so you lift your right hand and wipe it away with your sleeve. Finally, you feel as if you’ve gained enough strength to continue on and you let your legs begin to carry you down the path that stretches out ahead.

You maintain a constant walking pace, though you let your gaze scan your surroundings. You still don’t really see much else other than tall trees and snow; that is, until you look ahead of you.

There’s a fairly large tree branch on the ground. You pay no mind to it and simply step over it, continuing to walk at a once again constant pace. You don’t really expect for much else to happen, but you feel the joints in your legs lock up again as soon as you hear the loud sound of wood snapping in half.

Your heart begins to pound and your eyes widen just a bit. You fail to continue walking any further. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a short moment, you slowly turn your body around then open your eyes and immediately see that the tree branch you’d stepped over just earlier was snapped into pieces of varying sizes. Hah, great… Just something to make your paranoia skyrocket.

Gulping, you turn back around to face ahead. You eventually start moving again, this time at a quicker pace than before. You keep this up until you reach a small bridge with what looks like a poorly constructed fence stretched out over it. Then you halt again, your heart rate picking back up even more now.

You can hear snow crunching behind you, the sounds evenly spaced out and slowly growing louder over time. This continues until the sound comes from directly behind you, then it stops. The silence is dreadful too. It feels like it lasts forever.

As you bite your lip, someone speaks behind you and you feel chills run down your spine.

“H u m a n ,” the voice says. It’s fairly deep and enough to scare the daylights out you, but you still don’t move or say anything. You just continue to stare straight ahead, almost positive that you’re visibly shaking.

“D o n ‘ t y o u k n o w h o w t o g r e e t a n e w p a l ?” The unknown voice continues. It’s painfully eerie. “T u r n a r o u n d a n d s h a k e m y h a n d .”

You gulp, your trembling becoming stronger. Tears start to prick at your eyes just like they had before, but you finally take a deep breath and turn yourself around to face whoever’s behind you. Strangely, what you see looks like nothing more than a silhouette. It’s absolutely terrifying.

You watch the figure extend a hand out to you. You hesitate for a long moment, but then finally, you reach forward and take said hand. As soon as you do, everything changes.

A ridiculous farting noise emits as fingers wrap around your hand, then everything becomes visible. The figure in front of you is no longer a silhouette, but now very obviously a monster who’s wearing a puffy sky blue colored jacket, a white shirt, black shorts, and pale pink bedroom slippers.

You glance to your hand that is still holding onto the stranger’s and what you see freaks you out. The other’s hand; it’s literally made up of nothing but bones. That’s right. There’s no skin, no flesh, only pale off-white bones. Then you look at the monster’s face and it almost immediately hits you.

_You just shook hands with a skeleton_.

He’s grinning at you. It’s like the grin is permanent but then again, if he’s a skeleton, you wouldn’t expect him to be able to move it. He doesn’t have eyes, rather instead there are two white pinprick-like lights in the centers of his pitch-black, empty eye sockets. He’s also short, just like you. It looks like he’s the exact same height as you are and if he’s any taller, it can’t be more than just a few inches. Somehow, he makes you feel a slight bit better about your own shortness.

You’re in so much shock that you barely even realize that he’s chuckling. You shake your head to get yourself to come back to reality. His chuckling dies down after a moment and you tilt your head, your hand still having not let go of his.

“the old whoopee cushion in the hand trick,” he states, his voice losing a bit of the deepness it had before. He sounds a lot less intimidating now and much more relaxed. It puts you at ease.

You glance down to your hand that holds onto his. As he lets go of your hand and you pull it back to yourself, you see the small deflated whoopee cushion that lies in the center of his bony palm. You close your eyes tightly as he slips his hand back into his coat pocket and want to face-palm yourself, but refrain from doing so and instead lower your arm to your side. You let a small but genuine laugh escape your lips as you open your eyes up once more. It... feels good to actually laugh for once in your life.

“it’s _always_ funny,” the skeleton continues on, blinking his eye sockets as his toothy grin seems to somehow grow just a bit wider. Wait, what the hell? If he was just bones, how did he blink like that and how did his mouth move like that? It confuses you, thats for sure, but you don’t question it for now.

You aren’t even sure how to answer him. There’s so many things you want to say, but you just can’t put them into words. The words twist into knots in your throat as your tiny brief smile fades away. You suddenly look broken once more and you feel nothing but pitiful. You really hope your expression isn’t showing that too much, but much to your own dismay, deep down you know that it is. Dammit.

The skeleton’s grin seems to falter a little bit as time ticks by in silence and you immediately know that he can tell that something’s wrong. You hate it more than anything. As he begins to speak again, you allow your gaze to drop down to your worn combat boots that are now partially sinking in the snow that’s piled across the ground. Thanks to the thinness of the jacket you’re wearing, you start to shiver slightly.

“…don’t talk much, do ya, huh?” he asks, in which you’re pretty sure that the question is rhetorical. That’s alright though; it isn’t like you really know how to answer him anyways.

“…that’s fine,” he continues, sighing softly and shrugging his previously slouching shoulders. If you were still looking at him, you would have already come to the mental conclusion that he must be extremely lazy. The way he spoke as well as his posture and his body movements made it all too obvious. “i guess i should probably introduce myself.”

“i’m sans. sans the skeleton,” the now named monster says to you, in which you finally gather all of your strewn thoughts and manage to pick your now partially teary-eyed gaze back up. You turn it to him, then with a shaky, feeble voice, you respond to him for the first time.

“…H-Hi..,” you murmur quietly, your voice cracking on the simple word. This is what you get for being so emotional, isn’t it? Way to fucking go. “It’s, uh, n-nice to meet you, S-Sans. I’m ___________…”

It’s like Sans is immediately concerned after that. He closes his eye sockets and his grin finally shifts all the way into a frown as he shakes his head, huffing to himself. Afterwards, he opens his eye sockets back up. The two pinpricks of white light which you presume represent his pupils are still there and if you weren’t so emotionally shaken at the moment, you’re sure you would be frightened by it.

“____________… that’s a nice name you got there,” he eventually responds, his shoulders once again slumping while his hands remain located deep within the pockets of his faux fur-lined hoodie. After a moment of silence, you’re about to quietly thank him but he beats you to speaking first. “you alright? you seem kinda… shaken. i dunno if it was me or not, but if it was, sorry for _rattling your bones_ , kiddo.”

You do catch onto the pun, but you don’t exactly laugh this time. It doesn’t really seem like Sans is expecting you to laugh either as his expression shows nothing other than pure seriousness and maybe a hint of… sympathy, maybe?

“O-Oh! N-No, it wasn’t you at all..!” you quickly clarify, suddenly raising your voice quite considerably before you notice Sans putting his index finger over his mouth while curling his other fingers down. Oh. At that, you lower your voice once again and talk much more quietly. “I just… I’m going through a t-tough time, th-that’s all…”

Sans’ expression grows just a bit more sorrowful than before and to be quite honest, it makes you a bit uncomfortable. In response, you once again drop your gaze down to your dark boots. You shift your feet a little bit, kicking the snow around the thick soles of your boots idly. The white snow quickly turns a musty color as it is mixed with the dirt you unintentionally end up scraping into it.

“a tough time, eh?” Sans asks, wondering to himself while your feet continue to slowly shuffle in the snow. “…sorry about whatever’s got you down,” he adds, noticing you finally ceasing your awkward movements.

While you aren’t moving anymore, you’re still staring at your feet. You’ve let your mind wander way too much at this point. There are tears accumulating in your eyes and you have to fight to keep them from falling. You don’t even want to look up, but you feel as if it’d be rude if you didn’t. Due to this idea, you force yourself to look back over at Sans, lifting your hands up to your face so that you can wipe away your tears before they have a chance to fall down your face.

“It’s f-fine..,” you murmur to Sans, a quick sniffle following the end of your statement. You take another moment to regather yourself and within the next minute you manage to pull yourself together. The tears stop coming for the time being but knowing you, there’s no telling of when they’re gonna come back. It could be any given moment, but you tried to tell yourself that you could keep it together; for now, at least.

Sans once again looks like he’s focusing on his own thoughts. When he finally sighs, you’re pretty sure he still feels bad about your current emotional state.

“…listen, you’re a human, right?” Sans asks, but before you can answer he begins to say something else. “i’m actually supposed to be on the look out for humans right now, but i’m a pretty _chill_ guy, so i don’t care too much about capturing you.”

You suddenly manage a very weak smile as you catch onto the skeleton’s pun regarding the temperature of your surroundings. Unfortunately though, your smile is gone almost as soon as it appears. You can’t help but wonder if he said that on purpose, just to try and help cheer you up. You really do wish you could actually smile for more than a few seconds.

“but my brother, papyrus? well, he’s a human-hunting FANATIC,” Sans continues, putting much more emphasis on the last word. At this, your expression twists into one of even more worry at the idea of there being someone out there who wants to capture and hurt you. You’re confused when Sans pulls his hands from his pockets and starts waving them back and forth.

“no no no, don’t worry about him; he’s actually harmless. even if i hate making promises, i _can_ still promise you that,” he says as he returns his hands to his coat pockets and once again slumps his shoulders lazily.  “paps may try to seem dangerous, but it never works out.”

At this, you close your eyes, breathe an obvious sigh of relief, and your expression relaxes once more. You had really gotten nervous there for a second.

“Well, uh… Then what do I do?” you ask Sans as you open your eyes, unsure of how to deal with that imminent situation. That’s when you watch the short skeleton look around the area, then back to you as he slips his hands back into his pockets.

“normally i’d just tell ya to go ahead and confront ‘em, but i don’t think you should if you’re feeling bad,” Sans replies. “the thing is though, if you stay out here he’s bound to see you eventually. he’s around here somewhere.”

You find yourself frowning. Sans is right; it’d probably better if you didn’t try confronting someone else right now. In fact, your body is still trembling at the realization that you're no longer safe without Toriel and the isolation of the Ruins.

“…Where can I go? I don’t know anything about this place..,” you remind Sans, hoping he hasn’t forgotten that this area is entirely new to you. That would be a little bit absurd though, right? You’re silly for presuming he might have forgotten.

“oh, yeah, right,” he replies, his grin losing some of its previously held form for a moment before returning to normal. “i could probably help you out with that problem.”

You expect Sans to continue speaking, but he doesn’t and so you force yourself to continue first. “...Really? How?”

“i don’t really know you that well i’m i’m not usually one to do things like this, but since i’m a fairly _ice_ guy, i could let you sit around in my house for a bit to calm down if y’want. i don’t expect paps to be home any time soon,” Sans says nonchalantly. His pun slides right past you due to your current focus and state of mind, so you can’t help but tilt your head the the side slightly. You’re almost surprised that he's willing enough to let you in his house, especially after you’ve only known him for a few minutes. You decide you aren’t going to complain about it though.

“Are y-you serious?” You ask, receiving a silent nod from the skeleton as a response. You let a tiny smile crawl its way onto your tired, sickly face and express your gratitude weakly as the smile fades away and you continue to tremble lightly. “…Th-Thanks Sans, it means a lot… Where is your house anyways?”

Turning around to stare down the path you’ve been standing on through the gaping bars on the wooden fence, you realize it doesn’t look like there’s any kind of housing anywhere near here. Then you look back to Sans who’s shaking his head gently.

“snowdin’s a little ways from here. better not walk that far unless you wanna be caught by my bro,” he says, leaving you confused. How the hell are you supposed to get to his place without walking there? You’re about to ask him this, but he speaks before you manage to form the words. “but don’t worry about that ‘cause y’know, i’m actually pretty good with these little things called shortcuts..”

“Shortcuts?” You have to wonder about what he means by ‘shortcuts.’ Huh, there's only one thing that could mean, which is that there’s a different path to walk that’ll take you to your destination. Sounds convenient enough.

“yep. c’mon, I’ll show ya,” he says, his grin somehow turning almost… mischievous? Baffled, you hesitantly nod. After he lets out a quick chuckle, he suddenly reaches out and gently grabs your arm. You’re sure he could probably feel you trembling now, likely even more so now since he had just spooked you with his unsuspected movement. You know you need to work on your easily-scared state of mind.

Even worse, he grabbed where your bandages still hide under the sleeves of your jacket, wrapped not-too-tightly around your forearms. It’s not a pleasant feeling at all, but you try to hide your concern as you don’t want him to be alerted of the utterly horrible things you’ve done to yourself. 

Sans’ smile falters greatly as he notices your increased shaking and the way you try to flinch back. He doesn’t let go of your arm, but his grip loosens considerably as he instead slides his thumb over your forearm, seemingly as a bit of a reassuring gesture. Somehow, you can see a sympathetic look in his eye sockets and your shaking gradually becomes much less violent.

“relax, kid, i’m not gonna hurt you. you can trust me on that one,” Sans reassures you. His smile doesn’t change much, but you can tell just how genuine it is. You feel a growing warmth in your chest and your heart skips a beat for just a moment. Sometime within the next few moments, your still gently trembling arm almost completely relaxes. You aren’t even sure how.

Sans allows his large grin to return before nodding his approval towards you. He slides his free hand out of the pocket of his blue jacket and puts his fingers together as if he’s about to snap them. He hesitates though, instead pausing to think as he gives you a short but intent stare.

“…you might wanna hold on,” he says without any further clarification. Before you have time to open your mouth and ask him why, he snaps his skeletal fingers and without delay, a strange, nearly sickening feeling overcomes you. The hand of your free arm immediately flies out to grab tightly onto the sleeve of his jacket and you squeeze your eyes shut just as you begin to notice your surroundings completely melting out of existence. What the actual _hell_?!

It all happens far too quickly for your mind to adequately process. Within only half a second later, everything around you blips back into view. An extreme dizziness replaces the unusual feeling from before and you find yourself literally clinging to Sans for dear life as you want to avoid falling. Your ears begin to ring loudly for a short few moments, although the time seems to last forever.

As the ringing begins to subside and you finally begin to come back to your usual senses, you hear chuckling; familiar chuckling. Oh jeez, it was Sans, wasn’t it? Judging by how close the noise is, there’s no doubt in your mind that it’s him. _Great_.

“heh, uhm, ___________? you can... open your eyes now,” Sans says, his chuckling coming back to him as he finishes speaking then he releases his consistently loose grip on your arm. Embarrassed as all hell, you open your eyes up and look at him. That’s when you realize that you’re still clinging tightly onto his sleeve as well as the front of his jacket. _Holy shit_.

You gasp and almost immediately flinch back away from him, taking your hands back to yourself as well. An extreme red color suddenly dances across your face as you’re overcome by overwhelming embarrassment. This only seems to affect Sans positively; his grin somehow grows wider and his fairly gentle chuckling turns into actual laughter, in turn fueling your embarrassment. You pick your hands up and press them to your face, attempting to cover up as much of it as possible.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you suddenly choke out, your voice sounding somewhat strangled as you aren’t too sure how to function correctly at the particular moment. Wow, that was pathetic. Within the next few seconds, you move your fingers apart so you can shyly peek through them and over at Sans, who is still standing in front of you and now more gently laughing. Subconsciously, you study his laugh; it’s pretty deep, much like his voice is, but not as much. Even so, his voice alone wasn’t as deep as you would have initially imagined.

You really can’t help but find his laugh somewhat… uplifting. You aren’t even sure why, but a huge part of you doesn’t want to have to stop hearing it. It makes your heart… and your _soul_ feel heavy as it begins to cease, which does nothing for the blush that still hasn’t faded from your face.

“no, it’s _cool_ ,” he responds just as he calms his laughter, taking a look at his surroundings. The way the lights in his eyes flick back and forth suddenly brings you back to the present, in which you slowly slide your hands away from your face and peek around. What you see immediately shocks you.

You’re once again standing in snow; but everything else is different. There are no longer an abundance of trees surrounding you. Instead, there’s buildings; some look like houses, yet others look like businesses. A large sign just to your right reads, 'WELCOME TO SNOWDIN TOWN,' in large letters. Wait; how did you get here so quickly?

That’s when it hits you. You replay Sans’ words in your head: _i’m actually pretty good with these little things called shortcuts.._

Oh. You’d… literally _teleported_. Holy shit.

A look of wonder overtaking the expression on your face, your jaw drops and you proceed to gawk at Sans, who now has a very smug shit-eating grin on his face. If you weren’t so preoccupied by what had just happened, you might have noticed it more.

“..Sans! What the..?!” You aren’t even able to find words to appropriately express your surprise. The whole thing is just so damn surreal that it’s beyond shocking. It’s by far the strangest thing you’ve ever experienced in the entirety of the seventeen years you’ve been alive. In fact, it’s really hard to convince yourself that you aren’t dreaming.

“what can i say? i told ya i was pretty good at shortcuts,” Sans responds with a wink and a brief shrug before he takes a few steps to walk around and past you, only stopping to glance back at you for a moment. His hands still hang limply in his pockets, as usual. “c’mon, i live down this way. better that we get there sooner than later. besides, you look like you’re just about _frozen_..”

Apparently, you’ve been shivering, but you’ve also been standing almost completely still for over a solid minute now. Of course he was going to use that against you; and that he did, by throwing it back at you in the form of a pretty lame pun. This causes you to move from your spot and turn around to look at him, a vague glare replacing your previous look of surprise. Sans quickly notices this and snorts, much to your dismay. Pushing your urges to complain away, you sigh and agree to follow.

At that, Sans looks forward once more and begins walking into the town of Snowdin. Rather than following behind him the entire way, you instead pick up your pace just enough to linger at his side. You don’t pay much attention to him during this time; instead, you look more at your surroundings as well as the other monster residents of the small, snowy town.

Most of them hold happy, sort of hopeful expressions on their diverse faces. Nobody really looks the same. The most similar monsters you see seem to be nothing more than simple anthropomorphic rabbits and bears. As much as it intrigues you though, after a moment you once again focus your attention forward. You’re almost curious enough to ask why everything seems to be so related to Christmas, but then again, you aren’t too sure that monsters have a strong grasp on the traditional human holiday.

While walking with Sans, you pass a general store, an inn (ironically titled ‘Snowed Inn’), a library (misspelled as ‘Librarby’?), and a bar that is labeled as ‘GRILLBY’S.’ Sans seems to hesitate in front of this building, though he resumes his walking no more than a second or two later. You come to the conclusion that he must be a frequent there, but you don’t dwell on it too much.

Within the next minute, the skeleton is approaching a pretty average looking house; though it seems to be a bit bigger than the others. you’re lead to believe that it must be his and his brother’s house. It’s decorated with Christmas lights, seemingly matching Snowdin’s wintery holiday theme. You glance to the left side of the house and immediately notice the two mailboxes that stand there. The one on the right appears empty (or so you assume), but the one on the left it literally overflowing with envelopes; presumably a bunch of junk mail. Something about it results in you assuming that it belongs to Sans. If so, the other must belong to Papyrus.

Sans walks in front of you and steps up to the door, which he casually opens with no effort. Wait, did he not lock his house? Maybe that wasn’t exactly necessary in the Underground; you didn’t know. Again, another thing you decide not to question too much for the time being.

The monster walks into the house and leaves the door open for you, in while you hesitantly enter. He nonchalantly swings the door shut and you find yourself almost jumping from the sound of it slamming shut behind you, which results in him producing a light snicker. After recovering from being startled, you want to let him know how annoyed you are, but it doesn’t last long enough to be worth caring too much about. Blugh.

A switch is flipped on by a bony finger and then light suddenly floods the previously dark room. You squint your eyes so that you can adjust to it, soon finding that you can once again open your eyes fully. Your (e/c) eyes fall upon Sans with one hand out of his jacket, who suddenly disappears right in front of your eyes with a familiar snap of his bony fingers. You begin to panic and wonder why he'd left you there, but as you turn your head to the left you catch the sight of him appearing on the left cushion of a green, evidently worn out couch. Both of his hands have returned to his pockets once more. Relief floods you, only this time you notice the smug look on his face. Dammit, this dude really is something, isn’t he?

“well, i want to invite you to sit down, but i guess if you wanna stand around there, that’s cool too,” Sans says smoothly, the white lights in his eyesockets never once leaving you and his grin never faltering. Upon realizing how awkward you must look, you feel color flood your face again and your knees lock up where you stand.

“Oh, uh, s-sorry!” You say, a nervous grin appearing on your somewhat pale face.

Sans responds to this by slowly shaking his head, then patting the spot right next to him on the couch. This time, you take the invitation and manage to make your still shaky legs carry you over to said piece of furniture. There, you wait for the skeleton to move his hand and then take your spot on the right side cushion of the drab green couch.

As strange as it feels to be in the home of someone, a literal monster, you haven’t known for long, you can’t help but feel somewhat… at ease. You feel different here than you did out in the open of Snowdin Forest, even the town itself. Hell, you might even go as far as to say that you feel _safe_. You aren’t even sure why, but you feel like you can trust Sans and while you aren’t going to speak too soon about it and you still feel a hint of awkwardness lingering, you let yourself relax.

Of course though, hanging around in here means you're going to have to open up a bit and socialize, which is something you’ve never been good at. As long as you don’t have to tell too much though, you’ll be okay. You don’t even realize just how much help Sans might be to you… but you’re soon about to learn that.

In fact, you might have just so happened to have unknowingly found yourself a soon-to-be new _best friend_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended this chapter before I expected to, so the next chapter may be a bit shorter or longer. I can't judge that right now though! What I can tell you is that it'll for sure be fluffy; I hope that's something to look forward to! c:
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and the hits and I'll hopefully be posting again sometime soon!


	4. Author's Note

Hey guys,

Again, I'm so sorry about the update delay. I've had a lot going on lately regarding my mental health and I'm desperately trying to handle it all and get myself back together. Also, aside from general depression, I'm having a bad case of post-vacation depression. Oh yeah, you read that right; I've been extremely upset because I miss Disney World so badly. Call it separation anxiety or whatever, but let's just say I'm desperately begging my parents to somehow take me back. I'm getting better though, part of Chapter Four is done, so you can look forward to that soon!

Thank you so much for your patience! I'll delete this note before I post the next chapter.

\- sanstastic


End file.
